In the heart of a vast continent, there was a kingdom where the earth seemed to glow with a vibrant green, as if every leaf, every stalk of grass, was imbued with ancient magic. This was the Emerald Kingdom, where nature thrived exuberantly, living up to its name.

  The Emerald Kingdom wasn't just famous for its natural beauty. The kingdom's fertile nds guaranteed abundant harvests, attracting traders from distant nds who craved its riches. The kingdom's borders were protected by dense forests and imposing mountains, creating a natural barrier against invaders and protecting its deepest secrets.

  In the vilges and towns of the Emerald Kingdom, life went on at a smooth pace. Farmers worked tirelessly in the fields, artisans created wonders with their skilled hands, and children ran around the pastures, ughing and pying in the bright sunshine. However, as in every magical nd, there were stories whispered at nightfall, about ancient creatures that inhabited the dark forests and treasures hidden in deep caves.

  However, a bad omen has been hanging over the Emerald Kingdom. Animals from fenced-in herds recently began to disappear mysteriously, as if the earth itself were devouring them. Pntations, once abundant and green, began to die, leaving a rot trail through the fertile soil. To make matters worse, a mysterious fever broke out to take people's lives, spreading despair and fear throughout vilges and towns.

  Amid this chaos, many magicians were summoned to the capital's castle to find the cause and cure for these scourges. Using their arcane skills, they studied the phenomena, trying to unravel the dark secrets that had befallen the kingdom. At the same time, wandering knights were sent to neighboring kingdoms, seeking whatever help they could get, in the hope of finding a solution to save the Emerald Kingdom from its impending doom.

  While the Capital tries to deal with the kingdom’s situation as best it can, the rest of its residents are struggling to survive as well. Many peasants and even lords who have lost their nds to the pgue are looking for work on the roads, in towns, and at inns, one of which is the Twilight Inn, just a one-day journey from the valley of Everdarkness.

  Among all the inns in the kingdom, the Twilight Inn suffered the most, as its main clientele were travelers and merchants who needed to cross the valley to reach the North Coast Port and the Cobalt Sea, but in those times, crossing the Valley became impossible due to the shadows that proliferated in its bowels.

  The Twilight Inn with its stonewalls covered in pnt vines and the soft warmth emanating from the central firepce, has always been a welcoming refuge. It was a pce where travelers could rest, warm up their tired bodies, and enjoy a hot meal. Marta, the owner, prided herself on maintaining a pleasant atmosphere, where the aroma of freshly baked bread and the clink of ceramic cups filled the air.

  Lately, however, the inn had been quieter than ever. The tables, once crowded with travelers and merchants crossing the Valley of Everdarkness, were now empty. The few guests who arrived brought with them tales of shadows and dangers, but they didn't stay long.

  On a cold afternoon, the inn’s door suddenly opened revealing the silhouette of a wizard wrapped in a dark cloak. He entered quietly, with light footsteps that barely disturbed the silence of the pce. Outside, his wagon stood near the trough used to feed the guests' horses, carrying a medium-sized metal box adorned with runes that seemed to glow depending on the perspective of the viewer.

  Marta watched him curiously, as he made his way to a distant table, pcing his staff against one of the chairs at the table. Without saying much, he gestured for Marta to come closer, and soon he was seated with a mug of mead and a pte of hot stew in front of him.

  Despite the mystery surrounding him, the wizard seemed to be just another traveler in search of rest. Marta noticed that he was looking around and over time, he began to look restless, but she preferred not to disturb him by asking what was going on. After all, in times like those, everyone had their own secrets.

  The wizard, still holding the mug of mead in his hands, looked around once again as if searching for something or someone. After a moment of silence, he looked up at Marta and discreetly signed her to come closer.

  “Lady,” He said in a low but firm tone "I'm looking for someone who can handle a bde or a bow. I need a fighter for a job, but I don't seem to see anyone around here.”

  Marta sighed, wiping her hands on her apron, and leaned slightly towards the wizard.

  “You won't find many around here, sir. The Valley of Everdarkness is too close, and no one wants to work nearby. Those with common sense even avoid passing through here.”

  The wizard nodded, as if he had expected the answer, but still with a hint of hope in his expression.

  “Are there any fighters avaible anyway? Anyone?”

  Marta hesitated for a moment before continuing.

  "There's a mercenary staying here. He's the only fighter we have, and as far as I can tell, he's also the only person closest to the Valley you'll find. He arrived a few days ago and is resting now. If you wish, I can invite him over. "

  The wizard slightly nodded in agreement.

  "Thank you, ma'am. I'll need to talk to him. "

  The mercenary arrived in the inn's practically empty hall, scratching his head sleepily and with a strong breath of alcohol. He pulled out the chair on which the wizard's staff was resting, dropping it to the floor with a thud, but he didn't seem to notice. He sat down heavily and, without asking permission, drank the rest of the mug of mead on the table. After a long, carefree burp, he looked at the wizard with a crooked smile.

  "What's the job?" he asked with a hoarse and slurred voice.

  The wizard remained calm, even in the face of that rude behavior. He was out of options and he knew it. With a measured tone, he replied:

  "I need someone to escort me through the Valley of Everdarkness."

  The mercenary seemed to wake up from his stupor, and a gleam of excitement fshed through his eyes. He ughed harshly, as if savoring the idea.

  "Crossing the Valley, huh? " He muttered to himself "Finally!"

  The wizard noticed that the idea of facing the Valley excited him, perhaps even more than the promise of payment. However, that could work in his favor. Without wasting any time, he began to discuss the job details, knowing that any hesitation could make the mercenary lose interest as suddenly as he had gained it.

  The next day, the wizard and the mercenary met for breakfast, but to the wizard's surprise, the man got in the hall first and was already finishing.

  "I'm going outside to get the horse prepared for the Journey," said the man finishing his breakfast, munching the st piece of bread as he stood up.

  If he hadn't seen him yesterday, the wizard would certainly have thought it was a different mercenary there, he had no signs of drunkenness, his armor was well fitted and the metal parts polished. He walked with firm steps and had an upright posture, walking without looking at the ground.

  After leaving, the wizard found his hired man waiting for him in the wagon, everything seemed to be fine, and he had even tied the box to a corner of the wagon and wrapped the luggage and equipment around it so that would hardly wobble even if the knot loosened.

  The wagon owner waved his cloak and with a leap, climbed onto the front of the wagon, joining the waiting partner, but didn't ask for the reins he held, just waved that they could go on their way. The Twilight Inn had just become empty again.

  "It seems to be an important merchandise. Why didn't you take the royal road along the coast? Surely, it would take a couple of days, but it would get you to the port without too much trouble." Said the man breaking the silence since they had left the inn long ago.

  "On the royal road, there are guard posts and they ask hundreds of questions." replied the wizard opening a map he had just taken from an inside pocket of his robes.

  “I got it.” Drily replied the mercenary.

  “Not only that, they might want to search my wagon and open the box.” the man put the map away again and stared at his traveling companion, in a way to attract his gaze as well, and only then he continued. “And that is something that cannot happen under any circumstances! Before that, I'll be dead!”

  The newly hired man knew determination when he saw it, and at that moment he realized that whatever they were transporting, it was worth the wizard's life, and certainly his own, and that made him very pleased.

  The rest of the way to the Everdarkness Valley was silent, except for the creaking of the wagon's wheels and the rhythmic sound of the horse's hooves. The mercenary, still looking astute, kept alert with his eyes on the road, while the wizard, wrapped up in his thoughts, watched the horizon on transformation as they approached the valley.

  When they finally saw the outline of the first trees of the valley, they both decided that it would be prudent to spend the night in their surroundings before entering the deep darkness. It wasn't fear that drove them, but the simple need to start the journey rested, with all their senses sharp.

  The Valley of Everdarkness has always been known for its rge trees, whose branches intertwined at the top, forming a natural ceiling that blocked out much of the sky's light. The name of the valley derived from this unique characteristic, a constant penumbra which, although it reduced the sunlight, did not detract from its beauty. The ground covered with a carpet of soft leaves, the gentle sound of the leaves in the wind, and the breeze that carried the scent of damp earth always gave the pce an aura of serenity.

  However, something had changed.

  As the sun set, the darkness did not wait. It swallowed up the remaining light with an almost palpable voracity. The trees that had once seemed welcoming now stood like menacing sentinels, and the air, once fresh and inviting, seemed dense, charged with an unsettling presence.

  Lately, those who dared to enter the valley never returned. Stories about missing travelers spread quickly, and people who ventured near the entrance reported chills, unsettling noises, and glimpses of indescribable shapes in the gloom. The valley, which was once just a pce of shadow, had become a realm of true darkness.

  The mercenary ignored the growing tension but seemed more attentive than usual. For his part, the wizard studied every detail of the scene, trying to pick up any sign of what was really going on in the pce.

  When they finally stopped the wagon and began to set up camp, the two remained silent, each one was lost in their thoughts. The night was advancing, and the Valley of Everdarkness seemed to be watching them, like a predator on the prowl, patiently waiting for the moment to strike.

  However, neither of them showed any fear. The crossing would begin tomorrow, and they knew that whatever awaited them in the depths of the Valley would be faced with the courage that The Unknown demands. As the stars appeared timidly in the sky, the shadows of the Valley stretched out, promising that this would be a journey like no other.

  The camp was at a safe distance from the valley and the mercenary's sleep was light and fleeting. At one point, he sat up and watched the dense wall of trees ahead, until he had the sensation of being watched back convinced that something was moving in the darkness, right where it was even darker than the night around him. A shiver ran up his spine to his neck, he mischievously smiled and then y down again and slept soundly.

  As dawn broke, the mercenary and the wizard left the makeshift camp and headed toward the Everdarkness Valley. The wagon, simple but sturdy, rocked gently as the horse advanced, taking them towards the tangled trees that awaited ahead. Once well-kept and busy, the road that led into the valley’s heart was showing signs of abandonment. The ground was bumpy, with tree roots protruding dangerously at some points, but still acceptable for the small wagon.

  As they approached the entrance of the valley, the change in atmosphere became palpable. The path, which had once been lined with imposing trees that allowed daylight to shine through, now seemed plunged into a constant gloom. The trees were closer together, and their branches forming a natural dome blocked out most of the light. The Valley had always had an air of mystery, but nothing compared to what it had become now.

  As they crossed the line that marked the doorway of the valley, the change was felt immediately. The air seemed heavier, soaked with a cold dampness that penetrated the bone. The noisy silence of the forest, once marked by birdsong and the sounds of the small animals that inhabited the area, was now almost absolute. Only from time to time, an indistinguishable sound was heard in the distance, like a whisper, a reminder that they were not alone, even if the company was beyond comprehension.

  Both had crossed that valley in the past. They remembered a pce that, despite the shadows, had a life of its own—a nearly supernatural beauty that drew in those who needed to pass through it. However, what was once a safe haven in the natural darkness had become an eternal night. With each horse’s step, the darkness around them seemed to close in, as if the valley were alive, aware of their presence.

  As they moved forward, the sepulchral silence of the pce grew increasingly oppressive, as if the valley itself was waiting for the right moment to reveal its true face. Nevertheless, that wasn't the only silence—the greatest silence was the one between the two travelers, who until then had exchanged no more words than necessary: "eat," "necessities," "let's go."

  By nature, wizards are as curious as children when it comes to discovering new things, and the one traveling through the valley, despite keeping quiet, was no exception. With every stretch of silence, he thought of a thousand questions for the man he had hired—some trivial, but others he considered important, like why his companion seemed to like the idea of crossing this pce.

  "Did he lose something here and pn to stop to search for it at some point?" The questions kept surfacing in the contractor’s mind until he couldn’t hold back anymore:

  "Why did you want to come here?" the wizard asked, finally taking his eyes off the surroundings.

  "You hired me, didn't you?" the other replied casually.

  "You didn’t hide it very well the night we met."

  "Alcohol has always been quite revealing."

  "Indeed."

  "I want to die, but I can't just kill myself."

  "Are you a follower of the Chained god?"

  "That's right. So I must die in a good fight, with some purpose."

  "Okay, now you make more sense to me. Is this something you’ve been trying for a long time? Is that why you went to that inn?"

  "Not really."

  There was a long pause. The wizard wasn’t sure if the mercenary wanted to keep talking. This small exchange, aside from the contract negotiations on the first day, had been the longest so far, but to his surprise, it continued:

  "Not long ago, my daughter caught the fever." — There was a pause in which a sinister bird cry cut throughout the air, coming from an indiscernible direction. Then, once silence settled again, he continued, "She was the only thing I had left in this world, the st gift my beloved gave me before she passed."

  "My condolences," the wizard whispered, unsure whether he felt sadder or more relieved upon hearing his contractor’s reasons.

  A silence, greater between them than within the valley itself, was cut once more by the sinister cry—only this time, somehow, it was closer. The mercenary halted the horse and rose swiftly, grabbing the sword resting on the seat behind him and unsheathing it in the same motion as he leaped toward the nearest tree, leaving the scabbard behind.

  Before he could nd, misshapen four-legged creatures leaped from the tree. They had crow-like heads, though with few feathers covering their leathery skin. Instead of wings, scythe-like cws protruded from their backs. The creatures lunged at him, attempting to tear into his flesh with their twisted beaks and razor-sharp talons.

  The man dodged three of them but they were flying and twisting in the air, trying to ssh at him with their cws on his back. After the first assault, he quickly assessed the situation. The three creatures were locked onto him, while ahead, the wizard stood on the cart, scanning for more threats, while a bright blue light glowed at the tip of his staff.

  "Alright," he thought, "I hope the wizard notices if more of these things jump in." He gripped his sword — a long bde, seemingly simple, except for its bck steel, an unusual color for such a weapon.

  The monstrosities lunged at him, and he tracked the one coming from the left, decapitating it with an upward ssh. He then dodged the second and cut off the cw of the third while spinning his body, slicing its throat in one fluid motion.

  The third came back swiftly, nearly catching him with its beak, but the man stepped back just in time to dodge. He then blocked the scythe-shaped cw, spun his bde, and brought it down in a single strike, cleaving the st creature in two.

  "Above!" the wizard shouted.

  Three more raven-like monstrosities had leaped from the tree, hurtling toward the mercenary. He drove his sword into the ground up to half of its bde, despite the stones paving the road, then wrenched it free in a circur motion, sending shards of rock flying. The stones shattered the skull of one beast and sent the other two tumbling to the ground in a chaotic heap.

  Seizing the moment of imbance caused by the scattered stones, the mercenary lunged forward. In a single step forward, he had already beheaded them. The wizard blinked and missed the movement, but he understood what it was — this was a level of skill possessed by only a rare few. Men like him were worth a hundred soldiers or more.

  The man, sword in hand, stood at the edge of the newly shattered road, sharpening his senses once more. Sensing no further threats, he lowered his guard and returned to the cart, where the wizard was now seated, holding the reins.

  "Rest a little now," he said, nodding toward the seat beside him while handing over the sword’s scabbard. "I know that moves like those take their toll."

  "It takes far more than that to tire me out," the man on the road replied—and indeed, he didn’t look exhausted.

  The mercenary took his scabbard and walked around the horse to mount from the other side when he noticed the blocks of ice nearby, and inside them were at least a dozen of the creatures he had fought. He wasn’t surprised — if this wizard was willing to cross this valley, he clearly wasn’t a novice.

  The mercenary wouldn’t have heard the ice forming, as magic was silent. It reminded him of the time he lost half his company in the Century War — he only realized it when he looked down from the wall he had climbed and saw the gaping hole in the ground, the charred bodies. A crater far rger than an explosive catapult could have left. Yet, not a single sound had warned them of what was coming.

  What truly unsettled him, however, was that he hadn’t sensed the mana flowing around him. He should have felt the spell being cast, but his mind registered nothing until he saw the results. He would have disliked being near a wizard he couldn’t predict in the past — but this time was different. Not reaching the end of the journey would be a bonus this time.

  "You were a royal knight, weren’t you?" the wizard asked after they had traveled a good stretch of the battered road.

  "That was a long time ago," the mercenary replied, scanning carefully the valley darkness.

  "It was because of people like you that the Emerald Kingdom won the Century War. Are there songs with your name?"

  "Maybe one or two."

  "I never expected to meet someone like you on this journey, but it gives me much more confidence in its outcome."

  "And I had almost given up hope of finding a purpose in crossing this pce, so I guess that makes us even."

  "I know you’re looking for an opponent who may defeat you here, but I truly hope you don’t find one. Finishing this journey is far too important for me."

  "Why? What’s in the box?"

  "I’m sorry I can’t give you any details. Instead, I could give you a grand speech about how the future of this nd depends on it, but I think it would just sound like an arrogant bravado."

  "Then what can you tell me?"

  "I can tell you that we must keep this box sealed, at all costs, until the end of this journey."

  "And how does this journey end?"

  "With me, in the middle of the ocean, throwing this box into the water—for oblivion."

  "If you want to get rid of it, couldn’t you just bury it or something?"

  "That wouldn’t be enough. It has to be as far away as possible."

  The mercenary could only imagine what kind of atrocity must have been trapped inside that box and whether, perhaps, getting rid of it could help the people of the kingdom. Maybe, in times of peace, he was actually doing something truly useful for many lives while simply searching for a way to end his own.

  After another encounter with what was apparently the remnants of the raven-like creatures’ band, the two travelers decided to camp right there, in the middle of the road, as it was the most open area with the fewest trees to conceal whatever else might be lurking nearby. Despite the attacks they had suffered so far, neither of them was wounded or seemed exhausted, but they needed to rest to recover the spent mana and feed the horse.

  The mage cast a barrier and an eight-hour arm around the camp, saying that the st thing he wanted was to wake up with a cow-sized spider on top of him. Both of them had noticed that one of the reasons the pce was much darker was the spider webs sealing the tree canopies in many of the areas they had passed through.

  Even though both of them slept with one eye open, so to speak, the hours of rest passed without any attack on the barrier surrounding the camp. They y down and rose in the darkness, only imagining that outside, the sun must have been greeting the new day.

  Breakfast consisted of dried meat, bck bread, and water—the same meal they had eaten since leaving the inn and the same thing they would continue to eat until they reached the port, provided they made it through the valley.

  The second day, after they had crossed half the valley before setting up camp, was much more turbulent. A section of the road was blocked by a gigantic log, which they chose to incinerate with magic rather than go around. The mage admitted he wasn’t very good with fire, which required some concentration on his part, while the mercenary had to deal with a pack of wild dogs with grotesque jaws and six eyes.

  At another location, a sudden terror sent the horse bolting, and the mage had to conjure an astral protection to calm the animal while the mercenary fought an invisible evil that, somehow, his bde was able to cut. Once dead, it revealed itself to be a kind of primate with tentacles instead of limbs.

  The mage realized that his hired companion had been able to locate and sy the creature because of the mana flow it generated when casting its terror. The magic hadn’t affected them, as both were strong, but it could have cost them the horse if there had been more dangers lurking nearby.

  By this point, both were aware of each other's abilities, and a certain respect had grown between them. One was entirely sure the other would cover his back; only the mercenary was slightly bothered by how little he knew about his employer’s past, while the other knew enough about his. However, he wouldn’t bother asking—mages were masters of deception, and he didn’t want to wonder whether what he heard was true or not. After all, it had not mattered when he accepted the job.

  The darkness of the Valley seemed to strive harder to keep them trapped. The mage conjured a blizzard to stop a swarm of monstrous wasps that filled the air with a deafening buzz. Shortly after, they had to protect the horse from a mutant Ogre that nearly grabbed it by unching an abnormally long arm from the trees. However, it met its end when the mercenary’s sword pierced between its eyes—just after its arms had been severed by razor-sharp wind gusts, conjured with extreme speed and precision by the mage, who had levitated to get a better view of the monster’s position.

  “You didn’t recite any incantations or contracts even once,” the mercenary observed as the horse maneuvered around the grotesque severed arm in the middle of the road.

  “After the first time, I figured you didn’t care,” the mage said with a shrug.

  “I didn’t, but I got curious. And we’re nearing the end of the valley.”

  “I don’t need to — I use an internal mana source. That’s why you don’t sense a mana flow when I cast.”

  The mercenary shuddered—was that mage an even greater monster than the ones that inhabited the valley? In truth, if he weren’t as powerful as he was, things would have been much harder for them. Though the mercenary doubted he could have been killed in battle by the creatures that attacked them, perhaps he had overestimated the valley.

  “I suppose you won’t expin how that’s possible?” the mercenary asked, though he wasn’t really expecting an answer.

  He was right—there was no answer, though not necessarily for ck of words, but because the situation changed. Ahead of them y another log, not as rge as the previous one, but still needing removal if they wished to continue their journey.

  Nevertheless, something was different this time. The log was positioned with an eerily symmetrical alignment to the road, and on one side, a clear trail of fttened vegetation stood out. The two exchanged a gnce—there was no need to voice their thoughts: this log was a trap.

  They scanned the surrounding darkness but couldn’t pinpoint the danger. Regardless, they had to decide how to proceed. The valley’s exit was near—they could see a faint light in the distance, like a lone firefly.

  “I’ll incinerate this log here,” the mage whispered. “As soon as the fmes fade away, gallop the horse straight away at the exit.”

  They switched pces, as the mage had been holding the reins. The mercenary, now standing atop the cart, aimed his staff toward the log. Within seconds, a red light formed at its tip. At first, it was a soft, rosy glow, but then it deepened into a blood-red hue.

  The mercenary thought he heard a whisper—"ignitio fmma veniet et consumet…” — and sensed a mana flow around the mage.

  He deduced that either the mage was running low on mana and had resorted to traditional spellcasting, or he was doing this to speed up the incantation — or perhaps to enhance its power. The tter seemed most likely, as the mage had already admitted he wasn’t very skilled with fire. Previously, when he had incinerated a section of the log, it had taken him several minutes. Now, he was aiming for speed.

  The crimson light at the mage’s staff tip burst forward in a rush of wind, and a fme ignited ahead, wrapping around the log like a wall. The fire coiled inward until its ends met, and then the bze condensed into a towering pilr of fme.

  As always, no sound came from the conjured fmes — only the faint crackle of burning wood. However, the heat reached the cart, spooking the horse. At that moment, three arrows pierced its skull, dropping it lifelessly to the ground.

  The mage, who had sat back down after casting his spell, sprang to his feet along with the mercenary. Three more arrows flew at the mercenary, but he deflected them with his still-sheathed sword. Then came the whistle of many more — over a dozen arrows rained down on them, but before they could nd, a hastily conjured barrier repelled them all.

  “Can you float up a bit to spot them?” the mercenary asked, scanning the surroundings.

  “No need,” the mage replied, pointing his staff toward the roadside, where the smoke from his spell was thinning. “They’re coming.”

  Their ambushers finally emerged — three towering men, wielding a double-headed axe, a bastard sword, and a halberd, respectively. All wore light leather armor.

  A woman in golden metal armor bore a short sword and a triangur shield, each corner inscribed with a rune. Lastly, a hooded figure stood among them, wearing a cloak strikingly simir to the mage’s own.

  One thing united them all: golden bracelets on both wrists — except for the hooded figure, whose arms remained hidden.

  “No bows,” the mercenary observed. “Either they dropped them, or we have an extremely dangerous archer still hiding somewhere.”

  “Or more than one,” the mage added.

  “No, I recognize that firing pattern. All the arrows came from a single archer. This isn’t just some band of common brigands.”

  The mage nodded, and they both stepped down from the cart, each passing on opposite sides of the fallen horse. They advanced toward their would-be attackers, stopping just within speaking range—close enough for conversation, but not so near that they needed to raise their guard.

  “We recognize your skill, which is why we offer you the chance to hand over your belongings and walk away with your lives,” the woman in golden armor said calmly.

  “Not everything that glitters is gold, is it?” the mage asked, though it was clearly rhetorical. He then smiled at the woman and added, “You’re remnants of the Golden Company, aren’t you?”

  “Yes!” She replied. “The armor is a warning for those who notice, so, what’s it going to be?”

  “I carry a very important box, inside it lies something beyond your comprehension.” The mage gnced at the mercenary “Let us keep it, and you can take the rest of what’s in the cart. I have plenty of arcane artifacts that could fetch a good price.”

  “I don’t think you understand your position here.” The armored woman sighed heavily and continued. “You’re only leaving here with your lives, or not leaving at all.”

  “In that case…” The mage gnced at the mercenary, and by now, he knew exactly what that meant.

  Before he could finish his response, he swung his staff sideways, sending a massive scythe of air toward the opposing group. The armored woman stepped forward, raising her shield, its runes glowing as the magical attack dispersed—but not completely. It struck the man wielding the bastard sword at the edge of their formation, severing his arm.

  “Damn you!” The wounded man shouted, dropping to his knees and bracing himself against his massive sword.

  The mercenary realized the armored woman could be a major problem for his companion and lunged at her, but to his surprise, he was intercepted by the man with the axe. He hadn’t expected someone that rge to keep up with his speed.

  He looked around — he was caught between an axe and a halberd. The hooded figure was pouring a potion over the stump of the third fighter’s arm, while the armored woman charged at the mage. The situation was bad.

  "I need to take these two down first," the mercenary concluded. He swung his bck bde against the axe and dodged the halberd, stepping lightning-fast around the two. Just as he was about to counterattack, he sensed the projectile coming and had to deflect the arrow that would have hit him right in the eye.

  The mage conjured a barrier, which was shattered by his opponent’s shield, but just as she was about to strike him with her sword, he summoned another one that deflected the bde.

  “How do you do that so fast? No words, no gestures?” The golden-cd woman growled.

  “Why would I share my secrets with the dead?” The mage smirked sarcastically.

  On the other side, the two golden-braceleted fighters couldn’t nd a hit on the mercenary, but at the same time, he couldn’t counterattack — every time he tried, he had to block an arrow. Then, the third raider jumped into the fray, swinging his massive sword furiously with just one hand.

  The outnumbered man realized he couldn’t escape that position. So, after dodging the three men and setting up for a counterattack with his sword raised above his head, he waited for a second—and an arrow sank into his shoulder.

  The moment the projectile pierced his flesh, he turned—and vanished in a single step, leaving only the sound of wind behind, to everyone’s shock.

  “Your coward friend abandoned you!” Shouted the man who had lost his arm. “Now we’re going to settle the score with you.”

  The knight and the hooded figure, who kept throwing explosive potions at him, fnked the mage but he always managed to summon gusts of wind and barriers to fend off the attacks.

  Noticing the other three raiders closing in, he quickly levitated above the cart, but the knight raised her shield, which gleamed and cut off his levitation, sending him crashing awkwardly onto the cart’s bench.

  The man sprawled on the cart’s bench looked up and saw a green potion above him. He swiftly conjured a wall of wind around himself, and when the potion exploded, its liquid spttered everywhere, hissing and releasing a sharp acidic stench.

  “Careful, alchemist!” The knight shouted. “You’re going to ruin our loot!”

  The man on the cart’s bench spun with agility, slipping a hand inside his cloak. The raiders hesitated briefly to see what he would do — just then, the sound of rushing wind tore through the road once again. The mercenary struck the bastard sword wielder on the side of his severed arm. He tried to react, but he wasn’t fast enough to turn his body and block the bck bde—and was sliced clean in half.

  “Sorry for the dey.” The mercenary said, yanking out the arrow still lodged in his shoulder. “I needed to feel the projectile in my flesh to pinpoint exactly where the archer was and take them out, and it was much farther than I expected.”

  “No, you couldn’t have reached her that fast!” The knight shouted with a tear forming in her eyes.

  “Ah, so it was a woman…” The newly returned warrior mused, tossing the arrow to the ground. “Don’t worry, you’ll be meeting her soon enough.”

  “Kill him now, don’t hold back!” The golden-cd woman ordered the two remaining raiders as she turned toward the cart once more.

  The man on the cart drew a long, curved-bde sword from inside his cloak. The handle was clearly designed for two-handed use, yet the mage held it effortlessly with just one. A strong blue light emanated from his staff, seeming to be absorbed into his body. The knight tried to aim her shield at him, but nothing seemed to change.

  The mage supernaturally leapt from the cart, from an impossible height and at incredible speed. The knight barely had time to raise her shield to block the bde. Then, the mage spun on his knee and dragged his staff along the ground, knocking his opponent onto her back. As she tried to stand, she realized there was some kind of oil on the ground that made her lose her bance.

  The hooded figure had thrown something onto the ground and was preparing another one of those explosive fsks. Now, the knight was on the ground and couldn’t stop the conjuration — dozens of ice spikes erupted from the floor, piercing her in multiple pces, leaving her paralyzed with only one arm free. The only direction she had left to throw the fsk was toward the cart.

  The knight rose just in time to stop the mage from doing anything about the fsk that was about to fall onto the wagon. If she had seen what was about to happen, she might have even let him get rid of the fsk — after all, she had hoped that whatever was inside would become hers. Right after the wagon exploded, sending its fming contents in all directions, the golden-cd woman realized that had been the final act of the one she had called an alchemist.

  At the same time, the exchange of blows between the mercenary and the two bandits was frantic. However, now that the mercenary could counterattack freely, he had a clear advantage. When the bandits realized they were all cut and hadn’t nded a single hit on their opponent, their morale dropped, and they started losing momentum.

  Soon, the mercenary saw an opening. He sliced the halberd in half, then immediately drove his sword into its wielder’s neck before spinning around the body to use it as a flesh shield against the incoming axe strike. Then, he leaped over the fallen halberd bearer, stepped onto the massive axe, and delivered a downward ssh that split the st bandit from cvicle to abdomen.

  The two remaining combatants had yet to realize they were the only ones left. The knight struck fiercely at the mage with her sword and shield, while he dodged, deflected blows with his staff, and counterattacked with his curved bde.

  In a dirty and daring move, the knight threw her shield to the ground, trapping the mage’s cloak, then lunged forward with a thrust. The mage knew how to be just as dirty and daring — he tossed his sword into the air and dropped his staff, freeing both hands to spin his body swiftly, shedding his cloak and flinging it over his opponent.

  As she lunged forward, the golden-cd woman used all her momentum and had no way to dodge the cloak that simply fell over her, blinding her. The mage then caught his sword as it fell and, in a single motion, drove it through the fabric, making blood seep through the freshly torn hole as the body inside colpsed to the ground.

  The mercenary approached quickly, having missed the final moments of the fight. He wasn’t sure what was more surprising—the body covered by the cloak, the curved bde in the mage’s hand, or the fact that, beneath his cloak, the man wore simple dark pants and a shirt instead of some strange robe. There was also the sheath for his sword — something the mercenary had never even noticed before.

  “You’re full of surprises!” he excimed.

  “But before we get any more surprises, let’s find the box and let’s run away of this pce as fast as possible,” the mage replied, scanning the area and heading for the cart.

  The mercenary gnced around and spotted a pile of debris on the other side of the road. He walked over and found the metal box. Not all the runes decorating it still glowed as they once had. He turned it over and saw a hole — half of one side was open, bent outward.

  “It’s here!” the mercenary shouted, then added, “And it’s damaged. There’s a piece missing.”

  “DON’T LOOK INSIDE!” the mage shouted desperately, rushing toward his traveling companion.

  It was too te not to look. The mercenary’s eyes were locked into the darkness within. He saw nothing—until he spotted two tiny sparks. “Eyes,” he thought, startled, as there didn’t seem to be any way for air to get inside the box when it was sealed.

  “Help me!” A child’s voice spoke directly into his mind — a familiar voice that cut straight to his heart. He strained his eyes in the darkness and saw the shape of a face. It was eerily familiar. And then he recognized it — it was his daughter’s face. It couldn’t be, of course, but the girl looked just like her.

  The mage reached the box and shoved him away from the object. The mercenary stayed where he had been thrown, motionless, as if hypnotized. The mage knelt beside the box and began chanting in an unfamiliar nguage. The faded runes started glowing once more.

  “Help me!”

  The man working on the box grasped the bent metal; his hands wrapped in a white glow, and began forcing it back into pce.

  “Help me!”

  His daughter’s face fshed through his memory once more, and suddenly, he snapped out of his trance. He hurled his sword at the box, wedging the crossguard between the open section and the lower part, stopping the mage from sealing it completely and forcing him to recoil in shock.

  “What the hell are you doing?” the mage shouted, exasperated.

  “Why are you drowning this child?” the mercenary bellowed, tearing off the chain and snapping it in half.

  “What child? By the old gods! You looked, didn’t you?”

  The mercenary, holding parts of the chain in each hand, wrapped them around his fists. As soon as he did, they began to glow with a dark light.

  “What kind of ritual do you perform to gain your power? How many children have you killed?”

  “That thing is not what you think it is!”

  “THING?”

  The mercenary charged furiously at the mage, who swiftly raised his staff and conjured a barrier — but the punch was so powerful it shattered the shield and struck him in the torso, sending him flying several meters backward.

  The mage steadied himself, conjuring a blue light in his staff, which his body absorbed just as before, then drew his sword just in time to parry the next blow from the man already upon him.

  The mercenary's fists were like steel gauntlets, even though he was only using a retively thin chain wrapped around them, and every time the mage attempted to cast a spell, contact with his opponent's fists disrupted the mana and blocked the magic.

  The man wielding both sword and staff was grateful for his foresight in preparing for a physical confrontation first — had he not; he would have been dead by the second attack. He realized he could use small spells to gain an advantage without directing them at his opponent.

  The mage then levitated and used the wind to spin with his sword and staff, unleashing a flurry of consecutive strikes on his opponent, cutting his arm and leg — until the mercenary vanished from sight with a lightning-fast step, forcing the mage to stop and focus on his surroundings to block the counterattack.

  After countering the mage’s spiraling strike, the mercenary vanished once more, using his swift step to attack from all directions. Even with his enhanced senses, the mage couldn’t keep up with the speed and started taking multiple blows, each one feeling as if it were breaking his bones. Desperate, he conjured an erosion wave through the ground, stopping his opponent for a brief moment.

  The mercenary, on the other side, felt extreme exhaustion from the prolonged strain on his muscles and abilities. He readied himself for another burst of speed — until he sensed the flow of mana around him and saw his opponent's lips move from afar. It was an immense amount of mana. A chill ran from the base of his spine to his neck, and he focused on his surroundings, bracing for what was coming.

  The man with the bckened fists heard an indistinct shout from his opponent and immediately had to use his speed to dodge jets of water erupting from the ground in all directions. The steam alone was enough to burn his skin, and he was certain that if he were hit, his eyes would be cooked. He couldn’t dispel it — this was real water, not something conjured from mana.

  The mage began casting again. He knew he had to end this fight before it ended him.

  The man dodging the scalding water jets focused on his opponent, who was about to unleash another powerful spell. He felt an even greater surge of mana and knew he might have only one st chance to close the distance and end this.

  The caster finished gathering the necessary mana and recited the elemental contract that would allow him to unleash his spell. Then, he drove his sword into the ground, gripped his staff with both hands and struck the earth, releasing a blinding wave of blue energy in all directions.

  Immediately, all the water erupting from the ground around the mercenary spread like spiderwebs and froze in an instant.

  The mage had closed his eyes due to the blinding light at the moment of release, and when he opened them, he found himself face-to-face with his hired bde. Everything around them was an immense ttice of ice — except where they stood. He tasted blood in his mouth, and when he looked down, he saw a bck-bded dagger buried in his chest.

  The mercenary had managed to use his swift step to escape at the exact moment of the spell’s release, stabbing him in the process.

  “You don't understand...” the one who had been hit tried to speak, but there was no more air in his lungs or saliva in his mouth.

  The wizard leaned on the mercenary, but there was no more hostility, he was just falling. He thought about the irony of the situation, after having practically crossed the valley and survived its hideous creatures, it was humans who had prevented him from completing his mission.

  At st, only one man remained standing. He knelt, picking up the fallen mage’s sword, and the coin pouch fastened to his waist. "My payment!" he thought.

  The mercenary slipped through the ice and broke it when necessary, until he was out of the icy trap and back where the box was. He feared that something or someone would take it during the conflict, but it was where they had left it.

  He carefully removed the sword from the gap between the bent metal and the base, then, with his hands still emitting the bck glow, he finished breaking through the metal until the box was completely open, in the process the runes stopped glowing.

  Looking intently into the box, the girl was waiting for him. The girl who reminded him of his daughter, who he constantly had to tell himself he was not. He dropped the chains, sheathed his swords and stretched out his arms to the child, threw himself into them and then stepped out of his dark prison.

  “Let's go!” said the mercenary, settling the child on his p “I'll take care of you!”

  The child was leaving the valley in the arms of her liberator. he was carrying her, holding her facing away from him so that nothing would happen behind his back without him being able to see, and he warned her to speak if she saw anything over his shoulder.

  The one who had been in the box until then looked deeply into the valley as they got closer and closer to thei exit, and then smiled silently.

  At first, it seemed like a childlike mix of relief, gratitude, and joy, but then it turned sly, and soon after, it twisted into an expression no child should be capable of doing. A smile born of darkness. A demonic grin.